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i just want a taste of a soul
instead of skin plagued
turn back to lexa
she's a pro
at sifting through
sticks and stones
and the times that
broke my bones
their brittleness is
my strength
my frailty is
His power
what kind of ties
would be tangled
around my limbs
and my lips
rocks thrown
at my flesh
and my emptiness
without His forgiveness
and never ending
sings amidst
sin and
recall a time
to let a soul enter mine

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Editing stage: 


I will confess to not being a fan of verso libre, but the subject was elegantly chosen. I liked the poem. Welcome back.
My name is Wesley.

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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thank you~

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